


Stall Me

by orphan_account



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Asshole Frank Iero, Blow Jobs, Bottom Gerard Way, Boys in Skirts, Coming Out, Crossdressing, Dom/sub, Drug Use, Explicit Sexual Content, Frank Iero Is A Little Shit, Friends to Lovers, Gerard Way In Skirts, Gerard Way is a Sweetheart, Gun Violence, Injury, M/M, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Multi, Murder, Past Character Death, Sexual Content, Sexuality Crisis, Size Kink, Slow Burn, Top Frank Iero, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:13:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25311403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Frank iero is assassin. A cold hearted, straight, murderer. Sure it's not the best life but it pays the bills.Gerard's a sweetheart with too much money and not enough friends.Maybe they need each other to feel complete.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way, Mikey Way/Pete Wentz, William Beckett/Gabe Saporta
Comments: 34
Kudos: 95





	1. Kill all your Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so new story!!! I really wanted to write something with some assassin frank so get ready for a lil bit of angst and smut okay ;)

“Frank c’mon,” Gabe whispers, elbowing Frank in the stomach lightly, “We’re gonna get caught if you don’t hurry up.”

Frank groans, shooting daggers into Gabe’s side and peering over the side of the building they were kneeling behind once again. Cautiously, he tilts the gun in his hand over the side, angling it down and squinting ever so slightly. The figures in the window of the building opposite them all laugh, oblivious to what’s about to happen with glasses of champagne in their hands; their smug faces making Frank wish he’d been hired to kill them all.

“Make the fucking shot already!” Gabe spits, his eyes wide and the vein on the side of his neck pulsing against his skin with irritation, looking almost as though it could jump out at any second.

With his left hand, Frank tucks a piece of his hair behind his ear, teeth clamping down on his bottom lip as he steadies his hand, aiming for the man in the sleek black suit standing tall in front of everyone on a large wooden stage. By his side stood a man with fire truck red hair who was talking to him with a small frown on his face.

You can do this Frank, he thinks to himself, a thousand thoughts rushing through his head as he lets his finger rest on the gun for a moment while he watches the man take a step forward, the room all watching him. He deserves this, Frank tells himself, because he may be a murderer but he still has morals, his breath feels heavy on his tongue for a second as he makes sure he’s aiming Steady.

Then he blinks.

Without any hesitation, Frank pulls the trigger, watching the building in front of him go silent as the bullet pierces through the window and buries itself in the side of the man’s head. He only has to wait half a second before watching the hall erupt into chaos as the man he was hired to kill drops to the floor.

Pulling the gun back from over the ledge, Frank smirks, “That a good enough shot for you?” He asks cockily, watching Gabe smile out of the corner of his eye as they hide behind the wall for a second to let their breathing catch up to them.

“I fucking love you Iero.” Gabe replies, shaking his head slightly as Frank flicks the safety onto the little pistol, tucking it into the waistband of his jeans.

Frank chuckles, “I am pretty amazing.” He lets Gabe drag him to his feet, the two of them hurriedly running towards the side of the rooftop and down the buildings fire escape, they dash down the stair as quickly as they can, careful not to draw too much attention to themselves and slowing their pace once they reach the street where they do their best to blend in with everyone else amidst the panic from the people across the street as men and women dressed in expensive gowns and suits rush from the party, panic strewn all over their faces.

Despite his best interest, Frank turns to watch them flee, his eyes landing on random people as they rush to their cars and just before he turns away for good, his eyes land on the same fire truck red hair that he saw before. They make eye-contact for a second, maybe even less, until Frank realises what’s going on and Gabe is pulling him into their car and starting the engine, driving off before Frank can even think to wonder who the man was.

_

“100k baby,” Gabe practically yells once they reach their apartment, a pretty shitty building on the outskirts on New Jersey. “Imagine all the shit we can get because of that old fucker.”

“Yeah whatever,” Frank says, rolling his eyes and taking the gun out of his pocket to place on the table. He empties the bullets out into his hand and shoves them into the pocket of his jeans.

Cocking his head to one side, Gabe leans against the counter in the kitchen, “What are you gonna get with your share?” When Frank shrugs, Gabe huffs and continues, “Well I’m going to buy me and Will a nice dinner, spoil him a bit you know? And then I’m gonna get that belt I’ve been wanting, then after that I’m gonna-” He frowns, “Frank? Frank are you even listening to me?”

“Huh,” Frank says, shaking his head and looking over at his friend, “Sorry dude, I’m just tired, I think I’m gonna catch an early night, okay?”

Gabe nods with fake irritation, watching as Frank picks the gun up off of the table and takes it with him to his room. Carefully, Frank opens up his chest of drawers, burying the gun under his clothes with the other things hidden there. Just before he closes the drawer he lets his hand clamp around the locket that he keeps hidden there, his fingers running along the initials engraved on the metal. Lifting the locket up to his lips, Frank presses a chaste kiss to the letters. “I miss you,” he whispers so quietly he could barely even hear himself. Setting the locket back down he glances at the little “J.N” that’s tattooed on the side of his wrist, matching the little engraving on the necklace he just put away with a heavy feeling in his heard.

Wiping the corner of his eye, Frank closes the drawer and makes his way over to his bed, shrugging off his shirt and pants on the way until he’s left in only his boxers. Slipping under his bedsheets, Frank lets his face fall into a frown, his head aching and weighing him down. He reaches a hand out to the side of him to flick off the little lamp next to his bed, the yellow toned light fading until he’s sat by himself in the dark, the only sound around him being his own breathing and the muffled voice of Gabe, who’s probably on the phone with William, telling him all about the amazing date they’re going to have and how much he loves him.

It’s disgusting, Frank thinks.

Frank doesn’t have a problem with gay people, no not at all, he’s friends with Gabe and he’s gay and that doesn’t really bother him but he’s not like that. No, Frank likes women, with their long hair and their breasts and little mini skirts, guys just aren’t hot like women are and Frank would never actually date a man, that’s weird. Gabe and William are sometimes just a bit much, Frank thinks. They’re touchy and flirty and Frank doesn’t have a problem with it he just isn’t gay himself so he doesn’t really like when they’ll flirt with him jokingly or kiss in front of him.

He hears Gabe giggle through the thin walls of their apartment and he buries his head into his pillow to try and block out the sound with no avail. After a while Gabe stops talking and the apartment falls into a deafening silence again. Frank squeezes his eyes shut, letting his tiredness take over as everything turns pitch black.

_

Gerard had never even wanted to go to that stupid party.

He was stood in a room of people who he didn’t even know, a glass of champagne in his hand that he didn’t even want to drink, in fact the thought of even doing so made him feel even more sick than he already did.

“People are staring at me,” Gerard says to his dad with a grimace on his face, shifting from one foot to another uncomfortably.

Donald shoots him an unimpressed glance, “Maybe you shouldn’t be parading around with bright red hair then,” He raises an eyebrow at the younger man, “You already looked unprofessional as it is.”

Lifting a hand to rake through his hair, Gerard frowns, “I like the red.”

“Well I don’t,” Donald huffs, “But it’s better than having to watch you try to talk to my guests with a skirt on.”

“What’s wrong with wearing a skirt?” Gerard asks sadly, “I think they look nice.”

“Be quiet,” Donald says sharply, “You’re making me look bad in front of my guests,” He gestures towards the hall full of people all laughing and talking in front of him. He takes a step forwards on the stage, glancing back at Gerard with a sigh. “Hello everyone,” he begins, the room falling silent under his command. “I’m so happy you could all-”

There are moments in life where you wish you could go back in time and change the events that have happened. Like if you fail a test and wish you could go back and tell yourself to study or if you forget your money for the bus and wish you could go back and slip your wallet into your bag.

Right now, this is one of those moments. Gerard can barely even move, dropping to his knee’s at the same time as his father and crawling towards the other man, tears running down his cheeks at the sight of him lying face up on the wooden stage floor, blood running down his head from the bullet wound.

If he could go back in time he would have said something else, something nice, tell his father how much he loved him, or maybe he would have given him a hug, but no it’s too late for that. His last words to his father will always be that meaningless conversation that they couldn’t even get though without arguing.

The room around him has erupted into chaos, people screaming and running from the sight of Donald Way, dead in front of them. Gerard tries to pull himself together as he pulls his phone from his pocket, making the 911 call through muffled cries as he runs down the buildings stairs to sit by the curb, his face stained with tears that had mixed with his eyeliner to leave streaks down his porcelain skin.

Just before the cops manage to arrive, Gerard glances up, ignoring the terror and fear in the air around him. At the same time, a man on the other side of the street turns around too, another taller man walking by his side. For a moment, Gerard thinks the man was watching him but as soon as they make eye contact the man looks away as though nothing had even happened, getting into a car with the man he’s with.

The siren’s bring Gerard back to reality as they come closer, getting louder and louder before the cop cars come into his view, just to remind him of the horrible event that has just happened; the terrible and horrendous man that was Donald Way is finally dead.


	2. Help me out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Gee, are you awake? There's someone I want you to meet."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this chapter took me a while, sorry about that. I really hope you like it, I feel like setting the scene and getting everyone introduced is my main focus here so we can get into the good stuff soon :))

When Frank wakes up the next day he’s already in a horrible mood, the only smile he cracks being when he grabs his laptop off the wooden table next to his bed and checks his bank account to see the 50k he was owed having already been sent to him (and probably Gabe too) from the mystery source.

His head still feels heavy, the same way it did the day before but now it’s bearable at least, he thinks. Groaning, Frank rolls onto his side, dragging the sheets off of his body as he stands up and pulls on a pair of sweatpants lazily. He wanders out of his room and into the kitchen, running his fingers through his hair and grabbing an apple out of the little fruit bowl that they keep on their small, circular table. He shuts his eyes for a second, yawning quietly and listening to the footsteps behind him as Gabe walks into the room.

“What are you doing today?” Gabe asks with a small smile, raising his eyebrows when he makes eye contact with his roommate.

Frank frowns, “Nothing?”

“Wrong,” Gabe says, smirking slightly, “You’re going shopping with me and Will and then you’re going to check out this job.”

“Fuck off,” Frank groans, “Why do I need a job?”

Gabe rolls his eyes, not even looking at Frank when he starts to speak, “Because soon enough that money is gonna run out and I’m not paying rent by myself again.” He walks over to the fridge, opening the door and rummaging around before continuing to speak, “Besides it’s an easy job, some guy, Mikey Lee I think his name was, just needs someone to clean up around his house, look after his brother, make sure he eats and stuff.”

“You want me to be a maid?” Frank says with a sour look on his face. “I can barely clean up after myself.”

Gabe turns around, pulling out a bottle of ice tea out from the fridge and pouring some into a glass, “I don’t care,” He shuts the fridge door with a huff and walks back over to Frank, bringing the glass up to his lips, “We need money so you’re gonna go and meet the guy.” He shoves a piece of paper in Franks direction, gesturing for the other man to take it. “I’ve called ahead for you, and, being the amazing friend that I am, I’ll take you to the address for 3 o’clock okay?” Frank stays silent, reading over the note and sighing. “Okay?”

“Yeah whatever,” He finally says, shoving the paper into his pocket and scowling.

Gabe smiles, “Good,” He places his glass down onto the table and pats his friend on the back lightly, “Go get dressed, we leave in an hour.”

_

“Gabe!”

Frank jerks his head to the side quickly, his face setting into a scowl when he see’s Gabe’s delighted grin as he rushes towards his boyfriend, enveloping him in a hug and nearly knocking him off of his feet. Frank watches them in distaste, tapping his foot against the cement floors at the entrance of the shopping centre and glancing around so he doesn’t have to see their little display of affection.

The air around them is warm, making Frank tug at the leather jacket sitting tight around his arms, little patches and pins with different logos and phrases lining his arms and chest, the black and pink striped shirt he’s wearing underneath starting to stick to his skin slightly. Tilting his head to one side, Frank sighs, blowing his lower lip out and stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he waits for Gabe and William to call his name and drag him around the different shops for the next few hours.

He makes eye contact with William for a moment and scowls even more, following the two further into the mall and not even trying to hide his annoyed glare when the other people around them see. “Aw,” he hears Gabe squeak out, “This is so cute.” Glancing over, Frank see’s Gabe standing next to a little box of pins, holding up a rainbow one with the phrase “MLM” on it, “We should get some, shouldn’t we Frankie,” he says, smiling.

“No,” Frank says with a frown, “I’m not gay,” he tries to say, groaning loudly when he see’s Gabe rush off to pay for it with William still rummaging through the box to find 2 more.

“C’mon Frank,” Gabe whines when he gets back, trying to stick the pin onto Frank’s jacket, to the other man’s protest. “Just wear the fucking badge.” Frank grunts, pulling away without realising that Gabe had already managed to get the pin on next to the other patches on the sleeve of his jacket. Smirking slightly, Gabe turns to William, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him a little closer before whispering something into his ear that Frank can’t quite make out.

“Next shop?” William asks, raising his eyebrows and leading the way out, his hand threaded through his boyfriend’s as they wander into the clothing store next to them. Gabe rushes towards different items with William close to him as Frank watches, crossing his arms and walking behind them.

They end up leaving the mall at half past 2 with several different bags of clothes between them, Frank having been forced into buying a new pair of jeans because of how torn up and faded his old ones are. He toys with his lip piercing using his tongue in the back of the car, watching the houses get more and more expensive as Gabe pulls down a different road than the one they normally use.

“Now,” Gabe says, looking up in the mirror above him to see Frank, who rolls his eyes and slumps further down in his seat, “Be polite, you need this job.” He turns the car, pulling up to a large gate and rolling the window down, pressing a small button on the wall at the side and waiting for the ringing sounds so stop.

“Hello?” a voice says from the speaker.

“Hi, my name’s Gabe, my friend Frank is here for that job interview.” He says clearly, waiting quietly for an answer.

“Okay,” the person says, “Sorry about this but we’ve had an incident in the past few days so you can’t take the car in and someone’s going to have to pat you down in case you’re carrying anything.”

“That’s fine,” Gabe says, looking up at Frank with a questioning glance and hiding his relief when Frank nods to say it’s okay. “May I ask what the incident was?”

There’s a moment of silence before they speak again, “I’ll explain it later,” the guy says, the clicking sound on the other end indicating the person had left.

Rolling his window back up, Gabe gestures for Frank to get out of the car, him and William both saying a quick goodbye before turning the car around and leaving Frank to watch them drive off.

“Hey,” A loud shout from the right startles him, making him jump slightly and turn towards the guy walking towards him with a large security badge on his shirt and a little gun poking out of the belt on his side. “You here for the job?” Frank nods slowly, letting the guy come closer to him and lift up his arms, patting him down thoroughly while continuing to speak. “All good,” the man says with a smile, asking Frank to stay there while he goes to open up the gates.

Exhaling quietly, he stuffs his hands into his pockets, looking around at the expensive houses around him, only this house actually having its own security around it which start to seem slightly odd in his mind.

With a loud noise, Frank watches the gates swing open, stepping back slightly as they pull away from each other and open to let him through. Glancing to the side, Frank see’s the guard nod at him and he walks through the driveway cautiously.

Tree’s line the drive he walks down, different plants leading him to the large, white house he was meant to be working at. The house is almost intimidating, towering over him as he wanders closer to it, following the little side path up to the doorway, a large brown oak door with a curve at the top at the entrance. Pausing for a second, Frank sighs, reaching up to ring the doorbell and stepping back with his arms crossed in front of his chest. On the other side of the door he can hear someone rushing around before the noise stops and the door opens quickly.

Standing in front of him is a tall, lanky man with dark bags underneath his eyes, his glasses sit low on his nose, long rectangular lenses covering most of his face and brown shaggy hair hanging over his forehead. The man shoves a hand forwards into Frank’s space, indicating for him to shake it, and when he does the guy offers him a small smile, “Frank right?”

“Yeah,” He says, “And you’re Mikey Lee?”

He looks confused for a second before nodding, opening the door up fully and stepping back to let Frank walk in past him, who barely makes it past the front door before his jaw is practically on the ground. The house opens up into a large room, different open doorways leading to different even larger places and a grand, windy staircase in the centre, leading upstairs. The marble floors make Frank’s muddy trainers look shameful and he frowns slightly, staring at the expensive, grey, grain counter top with a large bouquet of flowers and a small note that he can’t quite manage to make out in the centre. “Are you coming?” Mikey asks, snapping Frank out of whatever state he was in and letting the man follow him into another, even bigger room.

He sits down at a large table, pulling a seat out for Frank at the opposite side. Frank sits hesitantly, pulling his jacket closer around his body and waiting for the other man to speak.

“So,” Mikey begins, smiling at Frank curtly, “Yesterday was quite a bad day for my family and my brother is really struggling. This is actually his house, him and our dad used to live here after I moved out.” His eyes wander around the room away from Frank’s and he pauses for a moment before continuing to speak. “My brother, he doesn’t do change well, he’s quite dependant on me and I can’t always be here you know? He needs someone to cook and clean, keep him company all that stuff.” Frank nods, watching Mikey close his eyes momentarily and bite his lip. “Our dad died yesterday, Gee saw the whole thing and I don’t know if he’s going to be okay, I know that this is a lot but if you’re going to work here you need to know. Our dad wasn’t a great person but this is really hurting Gee and he needs someone. I’ll talk to him about therapy and if he ends up going he’ll need someone to drive him there and back and maybe stay overnight sometimes to make sure he’s okay.”

Mikey glances back at Frank, seeing the other man listening to him intently and he exhales quietly, “We have a guest bedroom, some nights it might be better for you to stay but you don’t have to, I know you’ve probably got friends and your own idea of fun.” He shrugs, “But if you could I’d want you here Tuesday to Sunday, with Monday’s off. Some days you might just need to cook and then you can go, it really depends on what Gee wants.”

“Gee?” Frank asks, speaking up for the first time since he’d actually entered the house.

“Oh,” Mikey says, “Gerard. He’s my brother, he’s in his room right now, you can meet him now, just say you’ll take the job.”

“Don’t you need a resume and stuff?” Frank asks in confusion.

Mikey nods, “Your friend emailed me one yesterday and my some associates of mine did a small background check on you and you’re clean enough,” he explains, “Also I couldn’t help but notice a few of the pins on your jacket, I really think you and Gee will get along.”

Frank smiles, “Salary?”

Mikey hums, “I’m bad at this stuff sorry, my dad was a lot better with money.” He taps his fingers against the table lightly. “60 bucks an hour? And I’ll leave money out for you to buy food for Gee?”

Frank raises his eyebrows, nodding quickly and starting to smile. “That sounds good. When do you want me to start?”

“I hadn’t really thought this far,” Mikey admits, standing up and gesturing for Frank to follow him, which he does quickly. “Gee hasn’t left his room today so he’ll probably want something to eat. I’ve got a meeting in an hour so if you could just cook for him today and we’ll see if he likes you. That okay?”

“Perfect,” Frank says, letting Mikey lead him towards the staircase and cursing Gabe in his head for whatever he had just got himself into. He walks down the hall, keeping enough distance from Mikey to not seem like a creep and almost bumping into him when they eventually stops outside of a large door with a small, pink-ish, crystal handle.

Mikey inhales sharply, turning to Frank and giving him a friendly glance then knocking three times on the door and saying loudly, “Gee, are you awake? There’s someone I want you to meet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you like it, comment what you thought I love to read comments they make me happy :P


	3. Pasta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Frank slow down,” Gabe says, sitting down on the couch with William by his side, “What are you talking about?”
> 
> “Donald Fucking Way,” Frank spits, doing his best to keep his voice low so the neighbours can’t hear him through the walls, “I just spent the last hours with his fucking kid.”

“Fuck,” Gerard groans, the repeated banging on his door making him jolt up suddenly, with his arm slung over his head in an attempt to rub his eyes but he only manages to rub the eyeliner that he never took off further down his face. Dried tears stick to his skin and he huffs in annoyance, rolling onto his front and burying his face down into his pillow with a muffled grunt.

Lifting one hand out to the side, he grabs his phone off of his side table and winces as the disgustingly bright screen glares back at him, texts and missed calls from his mother and his family friends making him slam the phone back down and dread when he’s eventually going to have to end up answering them.

“Gee are you awake?” He hears Mikey practically yell at him, and he pulls the sheets further up past his neck to try and drown him out.

“Should I leave?” A new voice says and Gerard’s head jerks to the side so quickly he feels his neck twitch with pain. Who the fuck was with Mikey? Why couldn’t he just let him cry in peace?

“We’re coming in okay?” Mikey says not giving time for Gerard to complain and making him huff when he hears the door handle rattling as it opens and see’s a beam of light push into the dark room, forcing Gerard to squint and duck further into his sheets. He feels the end of his bed dip down with a new weight on the other side, there’s a hand on his leg, still covered by the sheets and he doesn’t have the energy to pull away so he just let’s it happen and waits for Mikey to speak again. “Hey,” He says softly, his thumb rubbing Gee’s calf to try and comfort him, “How you doing?”

He bites back a harsh remark, instead just groaning quietly and mumbling “fine” so quietly that it’s practically inaudible.

“You sure? Because there’s someone you should meet,” Mikey continues, “And if you’re not up to it we can try again tomorrow?”

Breathing quietly, Gerard pulls the sheets down past his eyes and blinks a few times before he’s adjusted to the light, pulling a face that he’s sure isn’t at all attractive. His eyes trail around the room, settling just past Mikey to stare at a man standing behind him with his hands in the pockets of his jeans and a slightly bored expression on his face. He’s short, Gerard can tell without even having to stand next near him but god, is he attractive, and now he’s seen Gerard buried in his bed after crying. Cursing under his breath, his eyes roam across the man’s jacket and he smiles at the bands he knows that are sewn on there, his eyes flick to the little rainbow “MLM” pin thats on the back of the jacket when the guy turns slightly and his eyes widen, because now the very attractive, probably gay man in his mess of a room has seen him in this state and any chance he would have had with him is gone for good.

“Who’s that?” Gerard asks quietly his question directed to Mikey but the guy steps forward, offering him a small wave before speaking.

“I’m Frank,” he says, the smile on his face looking forced as he stares back at Gerard who glances away quickly and makes sure Frank can only see his eyes and not the rest of him.

Mikey clears his throat, waiting for him to look at the other man and when he does he gives him a little smile, “Frank’s going to be here quite a lot Gee, he’s here to cook and clean and do all that stuff that you’re not up to doing at the moment.”

Gerard frowns, his gaze hardening, “I don’t need a babysitter,” he spits, “I’m not a child.” Sure, he hasn’t left his room since he got back from police questioning but that’s perfectly understandable, why didn’t Mikey get that? If he had watched his dad die right in front of him then he’s sure that Mikey wouldn’t want to be bothered either. He should be allowed to camp out in his room and live off of the snacks he keeps under his bed, he doesn’t need looking after.

Gerard scowls, letting Frank meet his gaze and shooting him a look that’s nothing short of murderous just to make sure that if he hadn’t already got the message, Gerard didn’t need him.

“I know you aren’t,” Mikey says, forcing his eyes away from Frank and back onto him and giving his brothers leg a little squeeze, “But with everything that’s happened, you might want a bit of help around the house.”

He huffs, “Why can’t you do it?”

“I have a job Gerard,” Mikey tells him, his tone telling Gee that it’s probably best not to try and argue with him, “And it’ll be good for you to get to know someone who isn’t family better.”

“I know people!” Gerard argues, “I’m friends with Ray aren’t I?”

Mikey cocks his head to one side, raising one of his eyebrows to tell Gerard that that’s not good enough and he knows it. “Get dressed,” he says, lifting his hand off of his leg and standing up, flattening out his shirt with his hands, “I have to go to a meeting and Frank here is going to make you something to eat.” He turns to Frank, giving the man a quick thumbs up before addressing his brother quietly, “Be nice.”

Groaning, he watches Mikey leave the room, leaving him and Frank in an uncomfortable silence as they hear the front door slam shut after a few minutes. Fuck, it was hot under all these sheets, he stills for a moment, considering just shrugging them all of before he decides that he doesn’t want this man to see him in just his underwear after only knowing him for a few minutes.

“Uh Frank?” He says, making the man jump and tear his eyes off of the wall, “Do you think you can leave while I get dressed?” He lets the sheets drop down past his face so he can sit up slightly and he watches the man’s eyes widen in what Gerard assumes is shock, from Gerard’s dishevelled appearance he presumes, after Frank continues to stare at him with his jaw practically on the ground, he coughs, pointing to the door and waiting for Frank to leave, which he does in his own time apparently.

“Fuck,” Gerard exhales, tossing the sheets off of his body and onto the soft white carpet on his floor. He ruffles his bright red hair roughly and waits a moment before forcing himself up out of his bed too quickly, making him wobble and hold onto his wall until he regains his balance and moves to sit on the chair in front of his vanity.

His eyes look sunken and red, the eyeliner he had been wearing smudged and dried onto his cheeks with his tears, the gloss on his lips had moved to his right cheek leaving a soft pink stain on his face and looking as though he had had a rough night, which he had so in his opinion it was understandable.

As much as he wants to crawl back into his bed and go back to sleep he has someone waiting for him downstairs, so he grabs a makeup wipe and scrubs until his face is practically red but he at the very least looks clean. He grabs a hoodie off of the pile of clothes on the floor of his room, not bothering to check if it’s clean before pulling it on and letting it fall down past his pale thighs. He pulls off the underwear he was wearing the day before, the lace itching his legs before he throws them down and drags on a pair of plain black boxer shorts, kicking the lacy material under the other clothes on his floor just in case Frank came back in and thought he was even more of a freak, he doesn’t think he’d be able to handle that at the moment.

There’s a pair of sweatpants that have been thrown over the back of his chair that he grabs and pulls up so they’re hanging low on his hips with his underwear and he tugs his hoodie down. After grabbing a pair of socks, he stands in front of his mirror, not being able to force himself to care enough about his appearance to fix his hair or maybe put on a bit of eyeliner before pulling open his door and slipping out of his room and down the stairs to the kitchen.

“Frank?” He says, cursing when he see’s the other man jump and almost drop his phone. “Uh, hi?”

“Hey,” Frank says, looking as though he’s forcing a smile, “Sit,” he says, gesturing at the couch on the opposite side of the room and watching the other man move to slump down on the couch and wait for him so say something else. “So, what do you want to eat? Bear in mind, I’m not the best cook.”

Gerard frowns, “If you can’t cook then why are you here?” He watches the smile on Frank’s face turn into a scowl and quickly waves his hands up, “Not in a mean way, oh god I’m sorry, I’m a total asshole god.” He looks down sheepishly, glancing up to see if Frank was mad at him and getting confused when he just see’s an amused smirk on the other man’s face. “What?” He snaps, harsher than he intended to.

“Nothing,” Frank says, flicking the little lights on in the kitchen to brighten up the room a bit more, “I’m here because my roommate thinks I need a job, and I may not be the best cook but I’m not completely useless.” He grabs a packet of pasta out of a cabinet holding it up for Gerard to see and tearing off the edge when he nods. “You don’t have a lot of food here,” He comments when he opens the fridge to only see a few bottles of milk, wine, cheese and some vegetables.

“Yeah,” Gerard agrees, glancing down to look at his lap, “Dad always wanted to get everything fresh, I mean we have the money for it so why not.” Frank seems to still at the mention of his dad and Gerard frowns, “Did you know my father?” He asks, “Donald Way? Shitty parent, amazing businessman and now in a morgue somewhere until they dig the bullet out of his corpse.”

Frank drops a pan onto the counter loudly, pulling Gerard’s attention out of his own thoughts and back to him as he speaks, “I didn’t know him, no, barely even heard of the company.”

“Really?” He asks, expecting Frank to turn around and tell him he’s joking because Donald Way was a billionaire for god sake, how could he not know him, but when the other man just shrugs and continues with pouring water into the pan to boil Gerard hums with slight confusion.

“You wanna play some music?” Frank asks from behind the kitchen counter, watching the water in the pan bubble as he adds in the pasta and steps back, discarding the rest of the packet on the counter as he turns to look at Gerard, his stony gaze piercing through Gee’s skin and making him slightly uncomfortable.

“Sure?” Gerard says, standing up to move to the little speaker on the counter and turn it on before going over to the little record collection that sits on the shelf next to the old record player he stole from Mikey a few years back. “Smashing Pumpkins okay?” He asks, grabbing an album and starting to take the record out before looking over at Frank who’s nodding and showing off one of the pins on his jacket.

“You’ve got good taste man,” Frank says, before looking back at the food and missing Gerards little smile as he lets the record play. He turns down the heat on the pan and steps away, sitting down next to Gerard and watching him cross his legs on the couch and shrink into his hoodie, his posture terrible as he hunches over. “Tell me about yourself then,” he says, “I’m going to be here a lot I guess so I should know what you like and stuff.”

“Like what?” Gerard asks.

“Well what do you do for fun? Where do you go?”

Gerard nods slowly, “Well I like to draw and I like comic books a lot, and sometimes me and my friend Ray, we’ll go shopping and get ice cream and stuff, but Ray works, well worked, for my dad so he kind of has to do that stuff to make me happy.”

“Oh,” Frank says, shifting in his seat, “Drawing huh? What kind of stuff do you draw?”

Gerard pauses, “Don’t laugh okay,” he looks at Frank hesitantly, just to tell the other man that that was definitely a threat before speaking, “At the moment I’m like making a like my own world, and these characters called the killjoys and it’s all kind of based off of people I know in real life.”

“Like Ray?” Frank asks, genuinely listening to Gerard’s quiet rambling.

“Yeah, like Ray.”

“You want to tell me more?” Frank pushes and Gerard doesn’t speak for a second, a faint smile on his lips as he twiddles his thumbs on his lap, “Does he have the same name in your world?”

Gerard shakes his head, his face slightly red as though the mere thought of Frank imagining his characters was embarrassing to him, “No, in this universe he’s called Jet Star, and Mikey’s the Kobra kid and I’m called Party Poison,” He glances at Frank out of the corner of his eye and his smile brightens when he notices how the other man doesn’t seem to look confused or as though what he’s saying is that weird and is just listening to him speak.

Gerard would be lying if the attention didn’t make him slightly nervous and his eyes shift back to look at Frank’s jacket, which the other man still hadn’t taken off, the little rainbow pin making him ten times more nervous than he already is.

“Will you show me?” Frank asks, making Gerard raise his eyebrows. “Like your sketchbook, if you’ve got one?”

“I don’t think so,” Gerard replies, sounding more sure than he had throughout the entirety of their conversation, “I don’t show anyone my art.”

“Why not?”

“In case they don’t like it.”

Studying the other man quickly, Frank smiles, “I’ll like it.”

Gerard stares at him, the eye contact they’re holding making him turn pink until Frank looks away with his smirk plastered on his lips, standing up and walking away from Gerard without glancing back as he goes over to check on the food and leaves the other boy slightly disappointed as he brings his legs up close to his chest.

He watches the other man drain the water out of the pan before pouring most of the pasta out onto a plate. Frank digs through the cabinets, before finding a jar of sauce and pouring some onto the pasta without asking whether or not Gerard actually wanted any. “You want cheese or anything?” Frank asks loudly, keeping his back to Gerard as he opens up the fridge when the quiet “yes” reaches his ears.

Hearing the last few seconds of the song that’s playing ring out through the speaker, Gerard stands up, flipping over the vinyl while being careful not to scratch it and letting the other side play. He turns to sit back down and almost falls when he bumps straight into Frank, who grabs his arm quickly to keep him steady.

His breath falls down onto his lips softly as he stares at Frank with a slightly scared expression on his face but it’s replaced by a saddened one when Frank pulls away as though nothing had even happened and is pushing a plate of pasta into Gerards hands, sitting down on the couch.

“Where’s yours?” Gerard asks, his eyes flicking from his plate to Frank, who was holding nothing and just sitting on his phone looking slightly distracted.

“Oh I just put the rest in a tub, in case you wanted more later.”

“But what about you?” Gerard says, rolling his eyes when Frank doesn’t seem to understand and using his spare hand to ruffle his own hair. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“Oh, nah I’m fine,” Frank answers with a wave of his hand.

“Have some,” Gerard offers, pushing his plate into Frank’s space and not relenting when Frank shakes his head. “There’s enough, I can’t eat all of this.”

Frank smiles but shakes his head, “I made it for you.”

“And I refuse to eat it unless you have some too.”

“I don’t eat this early,” Frank reasons, “I’ll pick something up on the way home.”

Gerard frowns, “I don’t want to eat if you’re not.”

“Gerard,” Frank says with a stern glance, “Eat it.”

He huffs, turning to one side and pouting, the plate still in his hands but he makes no attempt to touch the fork.

“Fucking hell,” Frank says, standing up and going to get himself a fork and a plate out of the kitchen. He grabs the little box he had put the rest of the pasta in and pours some onto the plate before going back to sit next to Gerard. He shovels some into his mouth and waits until he’s finished chewing before asking, “Are you happy now?”

“Yep,” Gerard says, happily turning to his food and eating as well, practically moaning when he tastes it. “This is really good,” He says when he looks at Frank who’s staring at him.

“Dude you just moaned,” Frank says, his voice completely deadpan.

“The food is good,” Gerard explains, slightly embarrassed. He turns away, pulling his hood up to hide the shade of red that his face is going and stuffs another mouthful into his face.

He hears Frank laugh next to him and carries on eating, a comfortable silence dawning over the both of them as they just let the music play and eat.

“You done?” Frank asks when he see’s Gerard’s clear plate, and when he nods he takes it out of his hands and places it on top of his own. He stands up, going to wash everything up until he hears Gerard cough to get his attention next to him. “Yeah?” Frank asks, watching Gerard mess with his hear before speaking.

“Are you coming back tomorrow?” he asks, his hands in hidden in his hoodie and fingers slightly crossed.

“I should be,” Frank tells him, “But it’s up to your brother really and whether or not you want me back.”

Gerard smiles, “I want you to.”

“Well I’ll leave my number, text me when you want me to come round okay?” Nodding, Gerard waits for Frank to finish drying off the plates after he cleans them and put them away. He watches the other man scribble his phone number onto a piece of paper and leave it on the counter before glancing at Gee with a small frown. “Is it okay if I leave now? I have something I’ve got to do. I promise it wont happen next time.”

“Of course,” Gerard says, walking with Frank towards the door and opening it for him, “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Yeah,” Frank says, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he steps outside, “See you then.”

He shuts the door slowly, watching Frank leave and press his phone to his ear before he locks up and slips back into his bed, pulling a sketchbook up from the ground and pressing his pencil between his lips. He thinks for a second before in little letters he writes the name “Fun Ghoul” before blocking out a body and starting to draw someone who resembled his new caretaker a bit too much.

“Come pick me up now!” Frank all but yells into his phone, picturing Gabe’s confused expression through the screen.

“Why?” Gabe asks, and in the background Frank can hear Will’s voice say “10 dollars says he’s been fired already” but he doesn’t have the energy to curse him out.

“I’ll explain it when you get here,” He says, hanging up and ignoring Gabe’s complaints when he tucks his phone into his pocket.

The security guard smiles when he see’s Frank walk towards him, waving at the other man and not looking too bothered when Frank doesn’t wave back. Instead he just opens up the gates, letting Frank walk through and stand in front of the Way household with his arms crossed.

After around twenty minutes Gabe’s run down car pulls up in front of him, William sat in the front and gesturing for him to get in. He collapses down into the back seat, ignoring Gabe when he asks him what’s happened and just telling him to drive.

They spend the journey in complete silence, Frank already rehearsing what he’s going to say when he get’s to their apartment and when they finally arrive he lets the words all spill from his mouth even though they’re barely through the door.

“Frank slow down,” Gabe says, sitting down on the couch with William by his side, “What are you talking about?”

“Donald Fucking Way,” Frank spits, doing his best to keep his voice low so the neighbours can’t hear him through the walls, “I just spent the last hours with his fucking kid.”

He watches Gabe’s face drop and his head drop into his hands, “How do you even know it’s him, a bunch of people have red hair and you didn’t even get that good of a look at him.”

“Well when he was talking about his dead fucking dad, who just happened to be called Donald and got shot the day before, I pieced it together.” Frank snaps, glaring at Gabe who just pulls William closer to him as though it’s not even a problem.

“Did you tell him you shot his dad?” Gabe asks, rolling his eyes as though Frank’s being completely irrational.

Frank narrows his eyes at him, “Of course not!”

“Then there isn’t a problem,” Gabe reasons, “He won’t find out it was you unless you tell him, you’re fine.”

“No, but watching the guy who’s father we killed mope around and stare at me like a lost puppy makes me feel a little bad.”

“Get over it,” Gabe says, “You need the job.”

“But I don’t” Frank groans, “I have money.”

“Which will run out,” Gabe tells him, “You’re going back tomorrow, even if we have to drag you there.”

William chuckles a little bit, making Frank glower at him, “Watch it lover boy,” He bites, “I will fucking stab you.”

“And then I’ll kill you,” Gabe says with a scowl, “Go jerk off or something I’m tired of this.”

Frank glares at them both, muttering angrily under his breath before retreating into his room, grabbing his laptop and lying down.

Fuck Gabe, fuck William and fuck that stupid Way kid, maybe he should just do what Gabe said, jerk off, get out a bit of pent up frustration. With lack of a better option Frank turns his laptop on, pulling down the zipper of his jeans and tugging his underwear down slightly to pull out his cock.

He flicks onto some cheap porn site, pulling out a pair of headphones so Will and Gabe won’t know exactly what’s going on in his room. He watches one of the videos with his head tipped back on the head of his bed, giving his cock a quick tug before grabbing a bottle of lube out of his drawer and squirting some into his hand. He tries to get himself hard while watching the girl on the screen pull off her shirt, unclasping her bra and letting it fall onto the ground but for some reason it’s not doing it for him. His thoughts keep wandering and he can’t seem to get himself hard.

After around five minutes of watching the video with his dick in his hand, Frank tucks himself away, zipping his jeans back up and closing the tab on the video. He rolls onto his side, grumbling and swearing under his breath.

He never feels guilty, let alone bad about the things he’s done, he can’t feel guilty no, that’s not what this is. He just feels a bit bad for the kid, losing his dad, barely having friends, he’s empathising with him, not feeling guilty.

Maybe he should just kill the guy, then he wont have to listen to his stupid voice and pretend to care about his art, but Frank knows Gabe will never let that happen, and if he did try and kill Gerard there would be too many trails leading back to him, the two of them actually know each other now. What would be the chances that Gerard got a new cleaner and was then mysteriously murdered in the same week.

Sighing, he rolls onto his front, taking his phone out of his pocket and seeing a little message come through, the words “hey its Gee, just sent this so you’ve got my number 2 :))” making him throw it down onto his pillow and sigh.

Fuck that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, hope you enjoyed this chapter :)))  
> id love to hear what you think or any predictions for the future of this fic. I've got a few ideas planned out for where it can go and I'm still yet to decide on which one to go with so comment what you think would be cool to see and I'll try incorporate it.  
> thank you for leaving kudos!!!


	4. Whiskey and Skirts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank Iero is having one of the worst weeks of his life, thats for certain and wow, Gabe really isn't helping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oo plot development  
> slight tw for Gerard drinking, its mentioned in the tags whats to come so know your limits with alcohol mentions pls :)

When Gerard wakes up the next morning he’s not quite sure how he’s meant to feel. Not much has changed after all; his room is the exact same as it was the day before, the floor a jumbled mess of dirty clothes and old dishes that he can’t really be bothered to take down to the kitchen and clean. And he’s still the exact same person that he’s always been, the same bitter-sweet Gerard that everyone seems to love, except it’s not that simple anymore.

He should be in mourning.

He should be feeling angry and hung up on the loss of his father, and he hates the fact that he’s not, the fact that he’s perfectly fine. He’s sleeping; eating like everything’s normal and flirting with cute almost strangers who cook him food and sit with him when he asks. Maybe it’s the shock, I mean how many days has it even been? The event is probably just still fresh in his mind and it’ll take a weeks for him to start cursing the world for treating him like this and he’ll be ready to harass the police until they find out who his fathers murderer was.

“Whatever,” He grumbles, rubbing his eyes with his left hand and letting his red hair hang down in front of his eyes, blocking his view, “I need a drink.”

Sometimes when Gerard is sad he shuts people out, now isn’t like that though, he wants people around him, the empty house making him shake with nerves that he can’t seem to suppress, every step he takes making him feel like the walls are going to collapse around him. Reluctantly, he shuffles out of his room and down the stairs, the floor cold under his feet, making him move faster into the kitchen. With his hand on his hip, he grabs the bottle of whiskey from the cabinet, popping of the top with no hesitation and smiling fondly at the memory of his father scolding him for touching something that expensive when had tried to make them both drinks one night. He shakes the thought away, no one’s there to tell him what he can and can’t do now. The smell or alcohol is strong and harsh when he sniffs the bottle, and scrunches up his nose, the smell not inviting at all. For a moment he wonders whether Frank will even come back or whether if Gerard’s personality and slobbish appearance had already pushed him away.

But this was his job, of course he’s going to come back, Gerard reminds himself, he’s getting payed to hang out with him. Well the least he can do is try and look nice for his new housekeeper he reasons, taking a long swig from the bottle and it with him when he slips out of the kitchen and goes back into his room, letting his boxers fall down from his hips and onto the ground.

Now, what to wear?

“Fuck off,” Frank snaps when he comes out of his room, stomach growling at him as he pulls his jacket on and glares at Gabe, frowning when the other man just laughs and hides behind his coffee mug. Narrowing his eyes, Frank stares at his roommate, not managing to see whatever his friend finds funny, “Is there something on my face?” he asks, hands flying up to feel around for any changes.

“No no,” Gabe says between giggles, “I would have thought you’d have noticed by now though.” Still holding the mug he grabs his sleeve to turn him around and take the rainbow pin off of the back of Franks clothes, smirking and waving it in front of his eyes before scurrying away to stand back behind the counter when Franks eyes widen comically for a moment before turning dark with rage.

“I hate you.” Frank states calmly, hands itching to wrap around Gabe’s neck and choke him out. “Fuck,” he says softly, “The fucking Way kid probably saw it and thinks I’m a massive homo now.”

Gabe rolls his eyes, “Get over it.”

“One day I will kill you,” Frank threatens, his voice light as he fixes his jacket and shakes his head.

“Not if I get you first,” Gabe says with a wink, lifting his drink to his lips before humming, “Which reminds me,” he places his mug on the counter, hopping up next to it with his long legs dangling off the edge, his back to Frank as he pulls his phone out of his pocket, “Before you go babysit-”

“It’s not-”

“Hush,” Gabe chuckles, lifting a hand to stop the other man from speakign. “Before you go babysit there’s a trip we’ve got to go on.”

Frank smiles, “Anyone important?”

“Some businessman,” Gabe tells him with a wave, “Wentz it says.” He holds his phone out in front of Frank, showing him the photo they had been sent of the dark haired man in a tight fitting black suit. “They gave me his schedule too, the best bet we have is when he’s going for coffee with his boss later today, there’s a building opposite with a fire escape we can go up.” Frank nods, and when Gabe looks up at him next his eyes are filled with the same sick laughter that Frank always see’s in him before something like this. “Bring something long distance, the building’s quite far.” He says, gulping down the last of his coffee with a quirk in his eyebrow. “We go in twenty minutes.”

He hops off of the counter, brushing past Frank quickly and leaving the other man huffing as he walks towards the counter, grumbling quietly on his way there. “I just wanted some fucking toast.”

“That him?” Frank asks, peering over the side of the building with his hood up over his head, his hair covering his eyes so if anyone were to look up at the two men crouched behind the ledge, rummaging through the backpack that Gabe had brought with them, then they wouldn’t be able to distinguish who they were.

Gabe glances down into the café, watching carefully as 2 men in suits sit down at the table closest to the window, and grabbing his phone to try and double check if they had the right person. “Yeah,” he says, watching Frank click the gun into place and angle it over the buildings ledge.

Staring down into the coffee shop, Frank watches the man- Wentz, chuckle softly, reaching out and bumping the edge of his cup against the other man’s, his spare hand going up the play with his own hair momentarily. The other man ducks his head, his back against the glass of the window so Frank can’t quite see his face, not that it matters anyway.

He lines the gun up, breathing quietly as he focuses on the shot, his finger tracing the trigger ever so lightly. Closing his eyes for a moment, he goes to press down on the trigger, looking down at the man with his lips pressed into a line. He steadies himself, about to make the shot with as much precision as he can manage and-

“Fuck!” Frank exclaims, jumping up when he hears the gun go off, Gabe rubbing his nose to the right of him. The smashing of the glass opposite them makes him shudder and whip his head towards Gabe with venom written across his face, “Couldn’t have held on a little longer?” he spits, Gabe kneeling down and looking as though he’s holding back a laugh.

“It was just a sneeze, I didn’t think it’d spook you,” he offers, his defence obviously not working as Frank just shakes his head, his expression so furious Gabe swears he can see smoke coming out from his ears.

Tearing his eyes away from his friend, Frank looks down at the wreckage below them, his blood boiling when he see’s the man he had aimed for on the ground, clutching his arm in pain as his boss pulls off his jacket, wrapping it around his wound to try and stifle the blood loss.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” Gabe says quietly, the smile he had worn no longer there, he pries the gun from Frank’s hands gently, clicking on the safety and stuffing it back into the backpack which he slings over his shoulder. Pulling his hoodie further down onto his face, Gabe tugs on Franks sleeve, ignoring the other man’s curses and complaints he shuffles towards the top of the fire escape, keeping low to the ground he turns to check if Frank is following him, which he is, with a scowl on his face that tells Gabe exactly how much he’ll be chewed out later.

They walk away from the scene calmly, hoodies pulled off and in their backpack to try and make them look less suspicious as they go towards their car, the cameras around the area having been broken by Will the night before after Gabe’s request.

They clamber into the car, Frank throwing his head back as a sigh escapes his lips. “We might not get another chance you know?” he says, turning to look at his friend as he starts up the engine, not letting what happened show on his face. After a moment of Gabe not answering he groans, “Fucking say something!”

“Calm down,” Gabe says with a faint smile, glancing towards his friend with a laugh that isn’t reciprocated, “It’s one slip up, I’ll figure out where he’ll be next and we’ll get the guy then.”

Frank frowns, “You’re kidding me?”

“No,” Gabe says, “We can’t get hung up on that stuff.” He stares out at the road in front of them, hearing the familiar sirens get closer before stopping, presumably at the café. “I’m dropping you off at your job.”

“What?” Frank says, eyes widening.

“Continuing along with regular life,” Gabe explains, tapping his fingers against the wheel. “Meaning you have work.”

Frank groans, leaning forwards to rest his head on his fist, “But I have money,” he argues, scowling at Gabe who either hasn’t noticed his annoyed tone or simply doesn’t care, “We have money.”

“It looks suspicious when we just randomly get money dumped into the bank,” Gabe says, rolling his eyes, “Bilvy and I have jobs, we’re good. You on the other hand...” his voice trails off, leaving Frank to huff and fill in the rest by himself.

They continue in silence, the air filled only by the sound of Frank’s swift movements as he pulls off his work clothes and replaces them with an old, slightly worn out grey hoodie, not really caring about who can see him out of the car window. The drive is short, Gabe apparently having found a short cut since the last time he took Frank from the Way household and when they pull up in front of the gate Frank is ready to grab the bag up from the floor and sling it across his shoulder until Gabe grabs his wrist, as though he needs to remind him of what the bag actually contains. Frank drops the backpack without hesitation, checking to make sure that his phone is still in his pocket before stepping out of the car, standing outside of the gated house and looking around awkwardly as Gabe drives off, not bothering to say goodbye.

“Sir?” Frank’s head jerks to the side quickly, hands instinctively going to his side to where he keeps his knife. The metal slotted between the waistband of his underwear and his skin so even if he was searched it’d be difficult for anyone to feel. And he has to tear his hand away quickly to try and pretend it had never happened. The same security guard he had seen the same before walks towards him, a friendly smile on his face and a wave hanging in the air, “The younger Way said I should be seeing a lot of you, that right?” Frank nods before he really understands what he’s being asked, raising his arms when the guy gestures for him to, before patting him down thoroughly and only narrowly missing the dagger by Frank’s side. “I’m sorry about this,” he says conversationally, “No one’s really coming in but I’ve been told I have to check everyone.”

“S’fine,” Frank says quietly, watching the man hum and smile again.

“You’re all good,” the guard says, patting Frank on the back lightly, “I’ll go open the gate for you.”

Offering a quick “thanks” he waits for the guy to leave his sight, rolling his eyes and stuffing his hands into his pockets, ready to make his way into the mansion in front of him.

Sighing quietly, he knocks on the large door, taking a step back and crossing his arms as he waits for someone to come and let him in.

He takes a moment to look around, the garden behind him lined with flowers and different plants that Frank doesn’t know the name of. It’s pretty he thinks, turning around fully to lean against the little wall that blocks him from getting any closer. They probably have a gardener, he assumes the giant house behind him making him wonder just how wealthy the Way family actually is, he stops thinking about it after a while realising that it’s probably more than he could ever imagine.

“Uh Frank?” Gerard’s voice says from behind the door, his head poking out so Frank can only really see the mess of red hair, “Are you going to come in?”

Hesitantly he nods, pushing his sleeves up to his elbows and wandering in to the house, ready to help Gerard with whatever he needs him for that day. “So,” Frank starts, not even looking at Gerard yet and still trying to take in the giant room around him. He may have seen it the day before but god it was impressive, “What am I doing today?” His gaze shifts to the staircase, just as grand as it was last time.

“I was thinking we should clean,” Gerard says from behind him, his voice sounding as though it’s coming from the kitchen. “Or we could just hang out and talk, I don’t mind.”

Tearing his eyes away from the ornaments, he turns, frowning when he doesn’t see Gerard before treading to the kitchen, “That sounds- oh fuck..”

Bending over in front of him, with his head buried in a cabinet is Gerard, a small black skirt brushing against the top of his thighs. The material edging up slowly when Gerard moves to grab for something, giving Frank a small flash of a light pink lace before he stands up quickly, smoothing out the material with his hands before setting down a large bottle of expensive looking gin.

“Hey, you there?” Gerard asks with a shy giggle, popping off the top of the bottle and grabbing a glass. He pours in a generous amount, not bothering to mix it with anything and just bringing the glass to his lips and hissing slightly at the burn.

Frank nods slightly, eyes still drifting over Gerards outfit. He had good legs, Frank could admit that, probably shaved too and if he squints he can almost imagine him as a girl, probably Frank’s type too. Fuck. He forces his eyes up to meet Gerard’s, who’s smirking slightly behind the glass. “You’re wearing a skirt,” he says dumbly, not knowing what else to say.

“Yeah,” Gerard says, already pouring himself another glass, “I do that sometimes.” Before Frank can answer, he’s erupted into a fit of giggles, the drink sloshing around in the glass so it’s a struggle not to spill it.

“God help me,” Frank mutters, walking towards the other man and taking the glass from his hand, setting it on the counter as Gerard pouts. “How much have you had?” he asks, watching as Gerard laughs to himself and stumbles over to the couch, collapsing on top of it.

“Dunno.”

Frowning, Frank moves to sit down next to him, shaking his head slightly. “You should go take a nap or something,” he suggests, jerking back quickly when Gerard sits up and grabs onto his sleeve, looking at him with wide, wide eyes and an appalled look plastered over his face.

“No!” Gerard gasps, tugging on Frank’s sleeve and rolling to his side, swinging his legs off of the side and dashing over to the door, his head poking out from in front of the frame. “We have to clean.”

With a pained sigh, Frank gets to his feet, following the strange man out of the room before he falls down the stairs or worse, finds more work for them to do.

“Jesus,” Frank says, having to mentally slap himself so he doesn’t say anything else that Gerard could take offence to.

Humming, Gerard nods, making his way through the jumble of clothes that litter his bedroom floor, “It’s a bit of a mess, I know,” he says, diving down to grab something off of the ground that he scrunches up into his hand so that Frank can’t see it. “But I think we’ll be able to get through it quick enough. It’s just clothes really.”

It was more than just a mess, it stunk too. When Frank came in yesterday he’d been more than happy to leave, the stench of sweat and mouldy food lingering around the room. Maybe Gerard didn’t even notice, he’d probably been in here for so long he was used to it, not to mention the fact that he’s definitely tipsy and couldn’t care less about a bad odour.

Doing his best to stay clear of stepping in anything foul, Frank wades his way over to the window, pulling the curtains open and cracking it open slightly, he grabs the half empty glass of what looks to be beer and contemplates just chucking it out into the garden, deciding against it quickly and instead just holding onto it as he makes his way back.

“I’ll take that,” Gerard says, swiping the glass from Frank’s hand and ignoring the way the other man’s eyes widen with disgust when he brings it to his lips to chug it, cursing softly after. “Any plates or anything you can put on the counter in the kitchen to clean later.” he explains, face scrunching up when he looks past Frank and to the stack of dirty cups and empty packets that lie behind his bed. “The clothes are mainly dirty so I’m not really sure what to do with them though.”

“You guys got a washing machine?” Frank asks, praying that he isn’t going to be forced to hand wash Gerard’s dirty clothes because honestly if his day gets any worse he might start throwing things.

Hesitantly, Gerard meets Frank’s eyes, waiting a few seconds before speaking, and Frank takes the moment to place a hand on his hip, feeling around for the little dagger that’s there so he can really decide whether Gabe was right and slitting the throat of the guy in front of him wasn’t the best option he had, because here he was, standing in front of Gerard Way who’s sipping a clear liquid out of a glass he had found a second before curiously, as though he’d forgotten the fact that his father had been murdered in front of him days before.

Frank can’t judge, he knows that, everyone deals with loss differently and he can’t berate him for not wanting to let his guard down and cry onto Frank’s shoulder about the man that Frank had shot without a second thought when he was offered the right price. And even if he did do that, Frank probably wouldn’t know how to respond, it’s one thing to have to work for the family of the guy you murdered but it’s a whole other to console them about it. Still, it feels weird to watch Gerard drink and laugh like everything’s normal and another dead body would be the least of his problems. He makes it so easy too, Frank could probably have fun with this one, cut off a finger or so first and smile while Gerard screams.

Too far Frank.

The knife rubs against his skin and he drops his hand, ignoring the way it digs into him and waiting for Gerard to speak, eyes running across his face. He’s pretty for a man, a good nose and pretty hazel eyes that Frank would love to see on a chick, a face like that’s too pretty to cut up he thinks, smirking at the thought because it’s exactly the type of thing that Gabe would say if he was here.

But he’s not here, Frank scowls, imagining Gabe darting around their apartment and fixing something up for William’s bakery, one of the first real things he put money into after they got their first few pay-checks because hey, who would suspect an hitman to own a bakery for gods sake. Hitman, Frank likes that name, murderer feels too inhumane, though it’s accurate he must admit, but hitman is cool, like he’s in a movie or some shit and not just a twenty something year old loser with a gun and not enough money.

He shakes the thought from his head, watching Gerard form his next sentence with a raised brow and his arms crossed in front of his chest. “So,” Gerard starts, taking the glass he had been holding and setting it on the little table by his bed, “We do have a washing machine, I just don’t know how to use it.”

“What?” Frank asks, the frown he was wearing earlier returning to his face, “How do you not know how to use a washing machine?”

Shrugging, Gerard laughs a little “I’ve never had to,” he explains, “Father used to bring someone in to do that sort of stuff for us, I don’t have their number and Ray would do it other times but I haven’t really seen him in a while.”

“Right,” Frank says, “Well just take the clothes down there and I’ll put them on to wash okay?”

Gerard nods, gesturing for Frank to wait there for a second as he slips out of the room and comes back a minute later with two baskets in hand. He pushes one into Franks grip, silently telling him that they can use those to carry everything down and when Frank takes it he gives the other a grateful nod.

With a sigh, Frank turns around, not really ready to make his way through the tip that is Gerard’s room but knowing he has to. He uses one hand to hold the basket and another to scoop clothes up and into it, doing his best not to really pay too much attention to what he’s touching.

His hand brushes against something slightly scratchy and he can’t help but look down, recoiling quickly when he see’s the pink lace material on the floor that fuck, he didn’t need to know about. Pushing the thoughts of Gerard slipping them on when he wakes up to the back of his head, Frank picks them up quickly, silently praying that he never has to see them again, because he may have suspected it earlier but he really did not need to have those suspicions confirmed.

Soon enough his basket is full, along with Gerard’s and he’s setting it at the side of the bed, pushing up his sleeves and closing his eyes, ready to get this over and done with so he can go pour bleach on his hands and forget about everything he’s touched.

“Have you ever washed up before?” Frank asks, taking the plates that had started to stack up and pushing them slightly to the side. Gerard shakes his head, moving to stand next to him. “Well it’s simple really.” He flips the faucet on, adjusting it so warm water shoots out, “Just kind of scrub until it’s clean, and when it’s clean get a dry towel and-”

“I’m not fucking stupid you know” Gerard snaps, his glare piercing into Frank’s side.

“What?” Frank says immediately, “I never said-”

Glowering, Gerard huffs “No but you’re treating me like a child. I know how cleaning works even if I’ve never actually had to do it.”

“Well I’m sorry,” Frank says, voice dripping with sarcasm, “In that case you don’t need me.”

Gerard rolls his eyes, “Don’t throw a temper tantrum short stick, I’m just saying I’m not totally incompetent.”

“Whatever,” Frank says, watching as Gerard goes to reach for another drink and grabbing his sleeve in order to stop him. “No,” he says, not wanting to see an already tipsy Gerard black out drunk, “Go get some water and sober up.”

Furrowing his brows, Gerard looks at Frank with a challenging gaze, “Why?”

“Because I’m here to clean, not deal with a day drinker,” Frank says flatly.

Gerard sighs, going to go and get a glass before filling it up in the sink, “You know, you should really hold back that tongue of yours, you do work for me and all.”

He blinks, watching Gerard sip his drink slowly, “Sorry.”

“I’m messing with you,” Gerard says with a small smile, “It’s actually kind of endearing, no one ever speaks to me like an actual person.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well I’m rich,” Gerard says, like it explains it all, “People suck up to me because they think I’ll buy them a house or something. It’s annoying. My only real friend is there because my Dad practically payed him to be and when Mikey’s business friends used to come over they’d be scared of saying something wrong in case I got them fired.”

“Who gets payed to hang out with someone?” Frank asks, moving to clean the plates in front of him while he waits for Gerard’s answer.

“Ray,” Gerard says with a shrug, “His family used to work for mine until a couple months ago and being friends with me was a part of the deal.” Gerard sets his glass onto the counter, “I don’t mind it that much, it’s nice to have someone to hang out with and I’ve never really had many friends, just him and Bert really.” He smiles slightly, as though he’s laughing at a joke that only he’s in on. “Whatever, I’m all worn out now, gonna go to bed.”

“You’re worn out?” Frank asks with a chuckle, “I did all the work.”

He fakes a scowl, “Well watching you work was exhausting then.”

“You can go upstairs in a minute,” Frank reasons, “Get another glass of water first and when you’re up I can make food without you getting pissy because you’re hungover.”

“Fine,” Gerard says, doing as he’s told and propping himself up on the counter, flinching slightly when he feels the cold marble under his bare thighs. He stares at Frank while the other man continues to clean, mesmerised by his every move. He’s not wearing his jacket today, he notes, the rainbow pin that gave him hope the day before no longer on his body, maybe he’ll ask about it later, see if Frank is taken or not because it would be such a shame if he was. Poking out of the top of the man’s grey hoodie is a tattoo, maybe a scorpion, Gerard can’t really tell but he likes it, the little details making him smile as he keeps his eyes of him, surveying his whole body to try and find more tattoos on the little patches of skin that he can see.

“Done,” Frank says after a while, Gerard hopping off the counter to hand him the glass he had just drank from. “You go upstairs and sleep or whatever.”

“Come with me?” Gerard asks, Frank not questioning and watching the other man rush out of the room and up the stairs, doing his best to keep his eyes off of his ass no matter how good the view could be, because he seems to be forgetting that Gerard is a dude. A dude in a really short skirt with an amazing ass but a dude none the less.

God Frank needs a beer.

“Will you cuddle with me?” Gerard asks, looking up at Frank with wide eyes. His hands are slotted underneath his pillow, head resting on the top of the cream cover. “I’m tired.”

Frank hums, raising an eyebrow from where he stands, leaning against the door. His eyes raking over the newly cleaned room. The room’s big, he can see that now, the clothes having been stuffed in the washing machine that Frank had to try and teach himself and Gerard how to use because it had way more buttons than he was used to and apparently Ray was the only person who actually knew how it worked.

Fucking rich kids.

But even after having cleaned the entire room, washed the dirty dishes that Gerard had left scattered across the floor and finding more than a few questionable things, Frank wasn’t entirely disgusted. In fact he was probably intrigued.

Gerard Way was weird. Frank already knew that. Him and Gabe weren’t the touchy type, with Gabe being gay and all Frank was already a bit uncomfortable with living with him as it is, he didn’t need to add extra contact on top of that. Not that he’s homophobic, because he’s not, he’s not the type of guy to stop being friends with someone because of who they like, and he definitely wouldn’t beat someone up over it.

Well it’s different if they’re hitting on him, he thinks, because he’s not gay and having another guy be like, into him is kind of weird because he likes women. He looks up at Gerard who’s still looking at him with puppy dog eyes and a pout on his face, and he can’t help but think about how Gerard would make such a pretty girl. He’s got soft-ish hips and thick thighs, slightly on the chubbier side which Frank doesn’t mind at all, there all the things he typically goes for in a girl. The black skirt he’s wearing showing off the thighs that Frank’s thinking about squeezing, maybe wrapping around his neck because that had always been a turn on for him, the overly feminine clothes that his past girls would dress up in, making an effort to wear the shortest skirts and dresses for him to rip off them when they wanted to be fucked into the mattress.

His hair is long too, long enough for Frank to be able to imagine pulling it or when he squints to be able to think of his hair slick back and stuck to his neck when he’s wet, face smeared with makeup. He can almost imagine a pair of tits on him too, when he’s wrapped up in the lace that Frank had found earlier, light, high pitched moans spilling from his lips.

“Frank?”

He blinks, meeting Gerards eyes with a hum that he hopes covers up the fact that he’d been imagining the guy in front of him in a pair of lacy black panties with tits. “Yeah,” he says, almost cautiously.

“I’m tired,” he says again, “And I want to be cuddled.” Frank groans, lifting his head up from the door, ready to open his mouth and let the complaints fly out but before he can Gerards speaking again, having rolled onto his front with his skirt riding up slightly making it difficult for Frank to keep his eyes on the other man’s face. “You also work for me.”

He can’t exactly argue with that. Stepping forward, he waits for Gerard to move across the bed, sitting down next to him hesitantly, neither really making a move to bring the other closer. He hears Gerard huff, before there’s an arm slung over his waist and a head buried into his chest.

“Comfy,” Gerard says, closing his eyes and waiting for Frank to stop acting so stiff and just hug him back. He hums content with their position when Frank reaches his arm around him and lets him pull his legs up to slot them between Franks in order to keep them warm. He can feel Frank tense slightly under his grip but he ignores it, letting the tiredness become overwhelming right before he goes under.

“Gerard!” A voice yells, the click of the being pushed open quickly then slammed shut filling the house, “Frank?”

Frank jolts up, quickly tugging his arm away from the other man’s waist with Gerard mumbling angrily as he lifts his head too.

“That’s Mikey,” Gerard says sleepily, clutching onto the material of Franks hoodie, “Ignore him.”

“Gerard!” Mikey shouts again, the sound of footsteps outside of the room making Frank slip out of his grip and stand up, quickly trying to make it look as though he hadn’t just been cuddling with his employers brother. There’s a knock on the door before it’s pushed open, Mikey coming into the room with bloodshot eyes and shaky hands.

“You look like death,” Frank says before he can stop himself, and the glare that Mikey shoots him almost makes him scared until Gerard giggles and agrees.

“Yeah,” Mikey says, his voice hard. Glancing towards his brother, Mikey frowns, “We’ve got a guest.”

Raising his eyebrows, Gerard sits up fully, bringing his legs up to his chest and hugging himself, “Who?”

“Someone from work.” Mikey says, “He’s a little shaken up at the moment, scared of going home alone and stuff.”

Gerard tilts his head, looking for an explanation but he doesn’t get one, Mikey telling him he can come and see if he wants to know, the offer directed to Frank too.

Nodding, Gerard stands, tugging his skirt down to make it look a bit more modest and ruffling his own hair. They leave the room in silence, the creak of the stairs below their feet eerie and making Frank question why he had ever actually taken the job hear.

“He’s on the sofa,” Mikey says, voice trembling slightly as he leads the way, pushing the door open to the living room and-

Fuck.

Sometimes Frank really thinks the universe hates him. Like the time when he was five and he stole a lollipop from the store, only for his mom to find out and make him go take it back, or the time that he was in college and the girl who he’d been making out with neglected to tell him that she actually had a boyfriend who was on the football team, but nothing could have prepared him for what happening right now.

Sat on the sofa, one arm bandaged up and in a sling was Wentz, his face down and hair dangling in front of his eyes. He was staring and he knew it, one hand itching towards his phone so he could go and call Gabe to get him out of here before he freaks out. God, how unlucky could one person be, Frank questions, the man who he had shot earlier that day now sat in front of him, very much not dead.

“What happened?” Gerard asks, eyes wide as he turns to Mikey with shock written across his face.

“Someone tried to fucking kill me,” Wentz says, “That’s what happened.”

“Pete-” Mikey says, stopping when Pete scowls at him.

“No point in sugar coating it,” Pete says, “Who’s the guy staring at me?” He asks, pointing towards Frank with a pointed glance at Gerard, “Your boy toy?”

“No,” Frank says, regaining his cool and pushing the thoughts of exactly how he’s going to murder Gabe (slow and painful probably) to the back of his mind. “I’m doing the cooking and cleaning around here.”

“Cool,” Pete says, raising his eyebrows at Mikey who signals something that Frank can’t quite understand back.

Mikey turns to the three of them, making eye contact with Gerard before speaking, “I’ll cut to the chase. Pete thinks someone’s trying to kill him-”

“Because they are!”

“-And with everything that’s happened today I will admit I am a little scared for his safety, plus he wont be able to come in to work every day with that arm, so he’s going to be staying with me for a few days.”

“How does this have anything to do with us,” Gerard asks, gesturing between Frank and himself.

Mikey grimaces, “My house doesn’t have security, it’s a gated neighbourhood and all but I don’t really have my own system.” He glances over to Pete for a second before continuing, “So just until I can call someone to get something installed, we’re going to be staying here.”

“Oh,” Gerard says, “But wouldn’t that make this place a target? I don’t think I’m really okay with seeing anyone else die.”

“Relax Gee,” Mikey moves to sit next to Pete doing his best to not get so close that he hurts him, “It’ll just be for a few nights.” He turns to look at Frank, “And until then you don’t need to come in, I’ve got it.” If he notices the way Gerard’s face drops, Mikey ignores it, continuing to stare at Frank until he get’s the message, “You can go now.”

Frank doesn’t answer for a second, still standing in the room and staring dumbly at Pete who cocks his head to one side as if it’s a challenge, “Right,” He says eventually, “Well I’ll be going then.” He gives Gerard a small wave before making his way to the door, opening it and not even waiting before he’s off their front porch before he’s bringing his phone up to his ear.

“You’re so fucking dead Saporta.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos? xx

**Author's Note:**

> comment what you thought, i really enjoyed writing this chapter so there's more to come :))


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